


Say Something (I'm Giving up on You)

by OfStrangeShadows



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Slight Steve Rogers/ Peggy Carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfStrangeShadows/pseuds/OfStrangeShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve thinks that he should've said something when he had the chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something (I'm Giving up on You)

Steve thinks he might be hallucinating. He figures that he’s bleeding out in some dirty alleyway after telling a bully what for, dreaming of better things that would never happen. He’s had this dream plenty of times before and he considers it to be a very cruel thing, but what can he do? If this is what his mind wants to dream of while he’s dying, he’ll go along for the ride before someone (probably real Bucky) shakes him awake and helps him stitch himself back up.

Except this isn't the dream he's used to. Something is incredibly wrong; things should be continuing, rushing toward the completion of the dream, but it's not. The world is still relishing in the silence that was born after Bucky's last few words, not speeding up towards his next. He feels so small and awkward under the other’s gaze, like his skin is stretching and trying to crawl away, not warm from head to toe and larger than life like he should be in this dream. So, Steve thinks, watching Bucky shuffle his feet and grab at the back of his neck, fingers trapping themselves in the brunette hair at his nape, this isn’t a hallucination.

“What?” He wants to kick himself because he had heard Bucky the first time and doesn’t think his heart could stand it if Bucky said it again. It might just give out and what would he do then? He couldn't enlist for sure.  
“C’mon now, Steve, you heard me the first time.” Bucky looks like he wants the world to just open up and swallow him, which Steve thinks is a look he works pretty well, unlike himself. He can never make utter embarrassment attractive, no matter how hard he tries. He thinks the other probably practices in the mirror because he’s never seen him feel like this - he’s always so smooth and charming in situations that Steve thinks he should be embarrassed.

“Yeah, uh, yeah.” He doesn’t think he could’ve said something else if he wanted to. He doesn’t say anything else after that, staring down at his shoes. They’re scuffed and not at all new and he begins to wonder if his shoes are why dames won’t look at him but changes his mind when he looks at Bucky’s and they’re just as bad as his, if not worse. He finally looks back up when Bucky makes a sound that’s a little bit panicked but searching for his attention regardless.

“So, say somethin’!”

* * *

He doesn’t know what they did to Bucky in that lab and he doesn’t ask. He watches Bucky flinch when he goes to touch him, watches him clench his jaw when someone mentions torture, in silence. He doesn’t think Bucky wants to talk about it and, if Steve is brutally honest with himself, he doesn’t think they have much time to talk about it. If they weren’t in the direct middle of a war that was so much bigger than both of them, he would’ve tried to ask. If they were back home, relaxing on cheaply made beds or walking back after Steve was beat up in another dirty alleyway, he wouldn’t hesitate like he is now. But so many things have changed and they are in the middle of a war, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, he backs off when Bucky flinches and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder when he tries to look strong.

He wishes sometimes, when he’s lying in a cot and listening to bombs exploding in the very far distance, that he wasn’t Captain America and that he and Bucky were back in Brooklyn, enjoying each other's company and pretending the world was fair to them. He knows that it means he wouldn’t be helping, that they’d lose the war, and wants to kick himself for wishing something so selfish, but he can’t help it. Things were simpler then, he can’t deny it, but pretty memories of an embarrassed Bucky and worn shoes help him remember what he’s trying to save.

He thinks about telling that to Bucky the dark night that he comes to sit next to him. Bucky’s so silent in the first few moments after sitting down at the end of Steve’s cot that Steve begins to think he might’ve slept walked there, but he opens his mouth after the long silence and says, “You can say somethin’.”

Steve moves forward, tossing the itchy blanket off of him and bundles it before setting it down next to Bucky. He means to ask him what he’s referring to, but Bucky lifts a calloused hand and that has him closing his mouth before a sound can escape, “You’re curious, always were. I get that and if you wanna know, I’ll tell you.”  
He's got that face on; the one that is strong and so soldier like that it makes his heart hurt. Steve wonders if he looks like that sometimes and wants to wrap his arms around Bucky and never let him go. Instead he takes the blanket and drops it into Bucky’s lap. He doesn’t think Bucky would take kindly to the sudden intimate contact anymore. Bucky looks at it before looking back to him and Steve places a hand on his shoulder, resting his body next to Bucky's before saying, “Buck, I’ll ask when you want to say something.”

Bucky stays there for the rest of the night; wrapped in an itchy military blanket and absorbing the heat from Steve’s body.

* * *

 He was kind of angry when Bucky tried to smooth talk Peggy into dancing with him, though he’s not entirely sure why. She did look beautiful and he doesn't blame Bucky for trying, but all he can see is old shoes and an embarrassed face and a hot stab of jealousy runs through him. He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to look at Bucky’s smirking face, “You look like you need to say somethin’.”  
“Not really.” He wonders if the lie comes out in a believable way. He doesn’t think it does when Bucky’s hand tightens on his shoulder and he turns Steve to fully look at him. The smirk disappears when he opens his mouth, “You thinkin’ of marrying her?”

Suddenly the hand on his shoulder feels like a brand and everything freezes. Steve doesn’t remember Bucky’s eyes ever looking like that. There’s something in them, something that Steve can tell Bucky wants gone, and it’s an emotion Steve thinks looks a lot like disappointment, maybe even sadness. He desperately hopes it’s not sadness. He wants to tell another lie, but instead let’s his mouth move on autopilot, “Yeah, she could be the right partner, but there’s this person waiting for me back in Brooklyn.”  
Bucky hides his confusion well, though Steve can see through it easily, and Steve continues, “They told me not to do anything stupid. I didn’t listen, of course. How could I do something stupid when they took all the stupid with them?”

The smile that blooms on his face and the happiness in his eyes makes Steve’s knees go weak and he can’t help but laugh along when Bucky chuckles out, “Well, you shoulda just said somethin’!”

Steve doesn’t remember Bucky looking as happy as he does now; in some bar in the middle of a war-torn country.

* * *

 He’s staring at the same bar in that building blackened by fire and destroyed by bombs, and thinks that he really should’ve said something.

* * *

 Steve thinks he might be in Heaven. He figures that he’s dead because Bucky is there with that same look of absolute mortification, hand on the back of his neck as he wonders if Steve is going to turn around and never come back. He doesn’t know how Bucky would ever think he could just walk away from their relationship. He couldn’t if he tried. He reminds himself to check back into his Heaven-induced dream when Bucky says, “So, say somethin’!”

He feels rooted to the spot, like the ugly shoes he’s wearing have melted to the asphalt. He doesn’t know what to say and can’t get enough air. Bucky looks mildly concerned as the silence stretches on and on and Steve just keeps staring at him. He thinks Bucky looks absolutely wonderful, so much better than he does in his dream, and wants to say so but can’t get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he passes out.

He wakes up in a room with a game he went to playing on the radio. The bed is comfortable, but the knowledge that he’s probably somewhere dangerous is not. There's an ache in his heart.

* * *

 Steve likes to think that he adjusted well to his new life. He still has Peggy, even though her memory is fading fast and she’s so much older than he remembered her. He doesn’t know if she really ever knew that he had wanted to marry her after the war was over or if she ever knew of his and Bucky’s complicated relationship. He wonders sometimes if she would’ve felt cross at being his second choice or if she would’ve understood. He misses her even though she’s right there, in the same confusing year as he is. He misses Bucky and he misses his old friends, though they were few and far between.

He misses being who he was and he regrets it. He saved the world as Captain America and has met plenty of wonderful people because of it. He would’ve died a long time ago if he hadn’t been so determined to help and Bucky would’ve kept being tortured had he not been so set on saving the 107th. What does he have to regret if he did so much in his life, if he helped so many people? He’s asked that question by a redheaded reporter who keeps trying to shove a microphone in his face, “Do you regret anything, Captain America?”

He thinks to say something witty or very serious; maybe something about the recent attack on New York, about his regret at not being able to stop Loki sooner. He almost tells her that he doesn't regret anything, but immediately feels guilty for even thinking to lie. Instead, like that time in the bar during the war, he lets his mouth go on autopilot, “I regret many things, ma’am.” The crowd of reporters around him goes eerily silent, “I regret not saving as many people as I should have and I regret the loss of life that happens every day. But most of all, I regret not saying things when I should have.”

He leaves the press conference immediately afterwards, ignoring the shouts for his attention, and decides to be alone for the rest of the day. His bed is too soft and doesn't creak.

* * *

 Steve thinks he might have lost his mind when the mask falls off and he sees Bucky. He stomps out the hope that rises in his chest and calls out to him, confused and trying to remember that he was just being shot at. When the other coldly asks who the hell "Bucky" is, he wishes he had died in the ice. He doesn’t know what Hydra has done to him and he doesn’t get the chance to ask. They’re in the middle of a war again, with questions on the tip of his tongue, but this time Bucky doesn’t want him to ask. He doesn’t want Steve to talk at all. He just wants him dead.

So Steve decides to let Bucky kill him. He’s played his part and this time Hydra will surely be gone. He’s years past due and if Bucky is the one to kill him, he’s sure to die happily, even if he is in pain. He’s taken a beating plenty of times; he can take it if it's Bucky. When Bucky’s fist hesitates, he thinks he might’ve remembered who he was and can’t help the happiness that wells up inside of him. Even as he falls from a destroyed ship and into chilly waters, he can’t help the joy that vibrates in his mind. Maybe he’ll be dead, but at least he finally said something.

* * *

He can’t feel the water anymore. All he can feel is the humid air of a summer’s day and the sweat gathering on the back of his neck. He and Bucky are walking back home after Bucky had shaken him out of unconsciousness. Bucky’s words are swimming around in his head, worrying him. Should he say something? Bucky wanted him to before he passed out, but maybe he’s changed his mind. He stops walking and Bucky stops not a moment later, turning to give him a quizzical look.

“Have you given up on me?” He asks, keeping his mouth in a line. Bucky gives him a weird look, mouth twitching and eyes harsh. He looks like he’s afraid of what Steve might say next and is trying to conceal it. His voice comes out calmly, so different than how he looks, “You got something to say?”

“Yeah,” He says, sliding himself closer until their shoulders touch. He forces Bucky to start walking with him again. “I love you too.”

* * *

They found him on the side of the river, bloodied and broken, but alive. When he asks, none of them can tell him how he got there. He wants to hope, but he tries not to. It takes him some time, but he eventually asks Fury and is told that Bucky wasn’t found in or around the wreckage, so they assume that he’s still alive.

When they go to Nick’s grave, after he's better and the only pain he has is Bucky shaped, he makes a decision. He won’t give up on Bucky.

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is my first Stucky fic, I'd really love some kind of feedback! A comment would be the most preferred, obviously, but I love seeing bookmarks and kudos too! This was inspired by "Say Something" by A Great Big World. If you haven't heard the song before, I suggest you go and listen to it! I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks!


End file.
